Saw it, or seemed to see: for ill her eyes, Things through the air, yet dim and hazy, view.
She falls, all-trembling, on the ground, and lies With face than snow more cold and white in hue:
But when she has again found strength to rise, Guiding her voice towards the bark which flew, Calling with all her might, the unhappy dame Calls often on her cruel consort's name.
